Those hopes still lent their iris-colours to her dreams.

She would wake to live! To-morrow, and the Reign of Terror was no more; the prison gates would be opened,--she would go forth, with their child, into that summer-world of light.

And HE ?--he turned, and his eye fell upon the child; it was broad awake, and that clear, serious, thoughtful look which it mostly wore, watched him with a solemn steadiness.

He bent over and kissed its lips.
"Never more," he murmured, "O heritor of love and grief,--never more wilt thou see me in thy visions; never more will the light of those eyes be fed by celestial commune; never more can my soul guard from thy pillow the trouble and the disease.

Not such as I would have vainly shaped it, must be thy lot.